While You Sleep
by Rebel-of-Spades
Summary: Dean has nightmares, and Castiel wants to help.


Dean couldn't remember the nightmare that had woken him, but he still felt the lingering dread and panic that was welling up in his gut. A quick look around the cheap motel confirmed that there was no immediate danger, despite his pounding heart.

"Dream?" came the soft question from the other bed.

"Yeah, go back to sleep Sammy," Dean muttered and watched as Sam rolled over and did just that. It wasn't anything new. Tonight was his turn to take the bullet from nightmare roulette. They both had nightmares regularly, and when one of them would wake from one, somehow the other instinctively knew it and would also wake. They'd do the quick "are you being killed by something awful" check, and then go back to sleep upon realizing that nothing was really wrong.

Yet that was the kicker, wasn't it? Everything was wrong. Everything _felt_ wrong…and it shouldn't. He had made it out of purgatory, and so had Benny and even Cas. He was back on the road with Sam, and things should feel right…but they didn't. Sam wanted to give up hunting, and Cas...well...Cas didn't want to leave purgatory, which delved into a whole other realm of fucked up he didn't want to think about at whatever godforsaken time it was in the morning.

Dean tried to turn his thoughts on getting back to sleep, but it was a haphazard attempt at best. Instead his mind strayed to the nightmare. Most of the details of the dream had already faded, but he had no lack of imagination. Burning, dying, fear, pain, hopelessness, guilt…the list went on. A thousand scenarios it could have been, but in the end…did he even need to pick one? They all amounted to the same thing. Somewhere down the line he hadn't been strong enough, and he had failed everyone he cared about. He had failed his father, Sammy, his mother, Ellen, Jo, Lisa, Ben, Bobby, and even Cas.

He sighed and rolled over on his side, squeezing his arms around his chest, as if that would help ease the pain that nagged at him night and day. The pain that jokes and quips had long since stopped soothing. Guilt rode him like a cowboy rides in a well-worn saddle. It was as much a part of him as the hand shaped scar on his shoulder that he didn't deserve to have.

As grateful as he was that Cas had pulled him out of hell, sometimes he still thought he might have been better off if he had been left there to rot. Sammy would have been able to move on, to get out of hunting…but no, things weren't ever that easy. Perhaps things were better this way. He'd never know and it was pointless to analyze the past, since he couldn't change it.

Things would just be how they always were. He'd somehow convince Sam to stay in the business, and they'd do what they always did…because it was the only life they could live. He had tried to get out of it with Lisa and Ben…and it had failed miserably. He couldn't stay away…and although Sam had tried with this new girl of his, he knew that eventually he'd be dragged back into it. It was their lot in life, and it was what they were good at. The only thing they were good at was killing and destroying. Depressing when you thought about it that way…

Dean sighed as deeply as he could, shaking himself out of his thoughts. They had a long trip tomorrow and he needed to get some rest. As much as he loved the Impala, she wasn't terribly comfortable to sleep in on long road trips. Getting back to sleep probably wasn't going to happen, but he had to try.

He curled into himself, willing blank thoughts to try and bore himself into sleep. Warmth washed over his arm and back as the heat kicked on and it was a welcome feeling for once. Usually he hated to be warm while he slept, but the heat slowly began to thaw his tense body and he started to relax. Despite earlier thoughts he slowly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Castiel had no use for sleep, but was loathe to leave the motel while Sam and Dean rest. He had no desire to visit heaven, or any of the places he used to go before purgatory when he wasn't with the brothers. It wasn't an entirely new feeling to wish to stay close to the Winchesters, but it was stronger than before. The protective instinct had grown stronger as well, and he couldn't figure out what had changed.

Dean had complained once how it "creeped him the hell out" when he woke up to see Castiel watching him, so he made an effort not to repeat the incident. Still, he could not bring himself to leave, so the only option left was to vanish from sight, but still remain present. That way he could still ensure the safety of the humans, and not anger Dean at the same time.

His attention was drawn to Dean as the sleeping figure suddenly emitted fear and distress. Castiel sensed no presence in the room aside from the three of them and realized that it must be another dream. Angels do not dream, so he could not fully comprehend the process, but he understood the emotions it could cause. Very rarely did either of the brothers give off good feelings when dreaming, so it was something he always associated with negative emotions.

Castiel still marveled at how in sync the two brothers were to each other, even after being apart over a year. Sam checked in with Dean, and Dean waved off his concern. Shortly after this, he heard the steady breathing from Sam that indicated he had fallen back asleep. The same could not be said for Dean, although the panic and fear were dying down. Instead they were replaced with grief and despair, which was far worse.

It was human nature to feel so many different emotions in such a short period of time, but it always unnerved Castiel at the swiftness one emotion could replace another. He was also confused by the limitation of humanity. Sam could not feel Dean's feelings and emotions like Castiel could…but he felt things in a different way and responded as such. Surely if he felt the continued waves of guilt and sadness coming from his brother, he would wake and try to comfort him?

No, even if Sam could feel the same things Castiel did, he would not react that way. Dean did not want comfort, and he shunned it at all opportunities. Castiel knew that this was because it made him feel weak, and because he thought he did not deserve sympathy. He thought it couldn't be further from the truth, but saying so would not change anything. No human should have to go through what these two had been through.

Castiel watched as Dean hugged himself. The negative feelings swept over him again and again in a merciless wave, until he couldn't stand the onslaught any longer. He briefly considered appearing and talking with Dean, but Dean would not talk to him about this…he never had before…and appearing would be to admit that he had been there all along. The last thing he needed was for Dean to be angry with him when he was trying to help.

Instead, he simply went over to the bed and sat down on the edge behind Dean. Being in the form that he was, the sheets didn't even rumple. He carefully pulled his legs up onto the bed and lay down on his side behind the distraught Winchester. Castiel argued with himself momentarily, but gave in when Dean gave a huge sigh and curled into a small, vulnerable looking ball.

As softly as he could, Castiel folded one wing over Dean, almost covering his whole body from ankle to shoulder. Castiel could feel the warmth radiating up from the body beneath his feathers and wondered if Dean could feel him too? Slowly, the negative thoughts went from shouts and cries down to simple murmurs, and he could feel Dean relaxing at last. Sooner than he expected he knew that Dean had fallen asleep again.

Castiel was surprised to find that he was smiling. Maybe he couldn't talk to Dean about how he was feeling, or talk him out of the guilt he felt…but at least he could comfort him this way. He would stay in the same position all night if it would keep Dean calm. It was the least he could do for the one who tried so hard to save him.

Dean woke up to a pillow hitting him in the face.

"You haven't slept this late in ages, get up!" Sam scolded as Dean buried deeper into his own pillows. Another pillow smacked the back of his head and he suddenly looked up at his brother with the most menacing glare he could manage.

"Yeah, I know, you'll pay me back later. Just get up!" Sam rolled his eyes and disappeared into the bathroom with a half grin on his face. Some things never changed.

Dean rolled onto his back with a disgruntled sound and was startled by the warmth of the covers next to him. Good thing they weren't spending another night here…the heater must be totally busted to be putting out that much heat. As he sat up and yawned he took inventory of his body. Surprisingly he felt pretty good…he wasn't even tired this morning. Perhaps they should spend another night after all. He hadn't slept that well in years.


End file.
